


Not Heartbroken

by bluemetgreenat18



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Happy Ending, Louis Tomlinson Wears Harry Styles's Clothes, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-19
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-08-31 19:32:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8590885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluemetgreenat18/pseuds/bluemetgreenat18
Summary: Two months since they had broken up. Louis is just trying to get over him and move on. Bumping into him on the street doesn't help. Or "we bumped into each other in the street and you were grinning like a cocky asshole the whole time so i stalked off only to realize i’m wearing your shirt"





	

**Author's Note:**

> For Dana (@queerlies) I tried my best  
> Thank you to Rae (@louiharri) and Emmy (@tequiladimples) for the encouragement and editing.  
> This doesn't totally fit the prompt, but it's pretty close  
> Thank you to my entire Larry GC for endless support and encouragement, not even for Larry related things. Thanks ya sinners

The day starts with Liam yelling at Louis to go grocery shopping because they're out of milk. Also bread. And eggs, “Louis, just get up and go. I have a lecture in twenty minutes,” Liam nags before walking out, slamming the door shut louder than necessary, making Louis curse and clutch his throbbing head. He stumbles out of bed, kicking at the sheets tangled around his ankles. He looks down and surveys his nearly naked body, his stomach feeling sticky (and not the good kind of sticky, it smells fruity, and Louis has a vague memory of his drink spilling last night).

A quick lurch in his stomach has him dashing to the bathroom, expelling the contents of his stomach into the toilet, cold tile digging painfully into his knees as he retches. After wiping his mouth and flushing away the sick, Louis leans back against the bathtub, coolness biting at his skin, but he just sits and stares blankly at the red skin on his knees, watching as it fades to pink, then back to its usual golden.

“Don't think I won't bathe you, mate, fuck boundaries,” Liam's voice from the doorway pulls Louis out of his trance, and he looks up to see his smiling best friend, eyes tinged with pity, making Louis straighten his back and lift himself from the ground. 

“Perfectly capable of bathing myself, Liam, thank you,” Louis bites out, the fondness in his voice making Liam's smile widen.

“Alright, just don't fall in,” he teases, leaning forward to mess with Louis’ hair, not wanting to get close to the sick boy, “I'll pick up Chinese tonight, yeah?”

The promise makes Louis’ mouth twitch up, “Thanks, Payne,”

“Anytime, Tomlinson. Now, clean yourself up and go shopping, money on the counter,” he blows a kiss and leaves the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. 

Louis briefly smiles at the close door, before turning to set the shower to the hottest he can handle, then strip out of his tight briefs, and steps into the steamy spray, letting it soak him from the top of his head to the tip of his toes. He scrubs at his body, scrubbing away the stickiness of his old drink, the sweat of bodies pressed against him last night. The muskiness of a cologne he hasn't smelled in two months. The water cools before he's ready to get out, but he does so anyway when his stomach starts to grumble, reminding him of the lack of food in the flat. Drawing a towel around his waist after shutting off the water, he walks through the chilly air circulating his flat back to his room, where someone (probably Liam) left a pair of maroon skinnies, and Louis’ “Not Heartbroken” shirt on his bed. Louis pulled both on, smiling as the shirt tail reached the middle of his thighs, since he's always been in love with large shirts. 

After a quick cup of milk-less tea, that did nearly nothing to the ache in his stomach, but he slips out the door after tying his shoes, locks it after him, and goes out on the street. The breeze nips at his arms, and he silently curses himself for not grabbing his jacket from where it was hanging next to the door, but he just rubs his arms and starts the two block trek to Tesco. Louis breathes in the fresh air of outside, clearing his lungs, feeling the throb in his head dull, until it completely fades after only two minutes of walking. There were a few people outside this earlier, primarily dog walkers, the occasional car zooming by. 

The turn of the street after the first block is where things change. Louis didn't bother looking to the left, only angling his eyes and body to the right where he had to go. A large body slammed into his side making him stumble and nearly fall, a pair of arms around his waist stopping him from meeting the pavement, “Oh shit! Sorry, mate,” the deep, slow voice, recognizable to Louis even after two months away, broke his gaze from the large hands encompassing his waist. He looked up to see jade-green eyes, a long nose, cherry lips, and a strong jaw. There’s a crease of worry between his eyebrows, and Louis had to ignore all his instincts telling him to run his fingers lightly to soothe the line away back into soft skin. 

“Harry,” Louis breathes out, Louis’ ex, ex-love of his life, widens his eyes in recognition, taking a step back and dropping his hands from Louis’ waist, a rush of cold filling his veins at the loss of contact. 

“Louis?” Harry asks, shock in his eyes, a hand reaching up to tug his hair. 

“You cut your hair!” Louis blurts out, gaping at his freshly shaven head, his curls nearly gone except the length quiffing up at the top of his head. He had on a black and white striped sweater with a green trench coat, tight black skinnies tucked into a pair of brown boots that Louis remember being his favorite, ones they had bought together last Christmas.

“What? Oh, yeah, I did,” Harry stutters out, tugging more, “Needed a change after…” he trails off uneasily, and Louis knows he means after their break up.

“Yeah, I understand,” Louis replies softly, biting his lip. The two stand at the street corner in awkward silence. Just being near Harry made the metaphorical hole in Louis’ heart slowly close up, but he knew, like their relationship, it couldn't last. Harry shuffled from side to side nervously. His eyes went to look over Louis, and Louis felt a flush rise in his cheeks at the close scrutiny. Harry's eyes stopped at Louis’ large shirt, and his eyes widened, before he looked back up to Louis’ face, a cheesy grin taking over his face, dimples deepening. 

“You heading to the store as well?” he asks, motioning towards the direction of the store, his voice suddenly oozing charm and confidence, giving Louis whiplash from the shy, awkward boy from two minutes ago. 

“Uh, yeah,” Louis gets out, “We ran out of milk, and most other things,” he explains, not quite knowing why, slightly thrown off by the charm radiating off his ex. 

“Cool. I'll come with you, I need some stuff,” Harry proposes, swooping his arm forward towards the store, eyes flickering from Louis’ face to his shirt, same grin in place. 

“Yeah, sure, okay,” Louis agrees hesitantly, side-eying Harry as we walks past, the green-eyes man following after. 

“Soooo, how have you been?” Harry asks cheerfully, a new bounce in his step. 

“Um,”  _ lonely, sad, I miss you, I wish this hadn't ended,  _ “Fine, I guess. Yourself?” he asks in return, looking over to see Harry’s grin falter. 

“I've probably been better,” he tells Louis, sincerity lacing his voice, making Louis’ heart flutter, “The last two months have been difficult, I guess,” his expressions saddens, frown growing, but he looks down at Louis’ shirt and his smile his back, crater deep dimples appearing. 

“Yeah, me too,” Louis confesses, a soft smile tugging at his own lips. The doors of Tesco slid open automatically, even colder air spilling out as the two men enter, Harry went to grab a basket, and came back with only one.

“I was thinking we could share a basket? Because I don't need much,” he offers Louis, holding the basket forward with a cheesy grin, Louis’ heart doing triplets in his chest, and he nods mutely, grabbing the basket from Harry’s hands. “Okay, what do you need first?” he asks as they take off down the aisles. 

“Uh, bread, then eggs and milk,” Louis replies, thinking over his mental checklist.

“Okay, I just need fruit, and that's right near the dairy section,” Harry gives his soft dimpled smile, just a flash of white teeth. The ten minutes they spend in the bread aisle they were bickering over white and wheat bread, but it wasn't angry bickering, just casual banter back and forth, reminding Louis of easier times. Harry eventually convinces Louis to go for the whole grain bread, and he tosses it in their basket with a satisfied smirk. The two walk over to the produce aisle, Harry lecturing Louis about the importance of eating healthy, the same discussion they've had since they first met, Harry talking about the importance of fresh food, and daily workouts.

When they enter the produce aisle, Louis starts to heavily regret not grabbing his jacket, as cold ventilation hit him from all sides. He shivered slightly, rubbing his hands up and down his arms, task made difficult by the basket in his hands. Harry opened the first door they saw and started taking out frozen bags of fruit, humming as he does so. With arms full of frozen berries, he pours them into their basket, taking it out of Louis’ hand the heavier it got. Louis takes advantage of his empty hand to run the goosebumps forming at the tops of his arms. Harry turns to him with a smile, which quickly turns to worry noticing Louis’ distress. 

“You alright, Lou?” he asks, nickname slipping out easily as it had always. 

“Fine, s’just cold,” Louis responds, moving forward to stop Harry from taking off his own jacket, “No, Harry, I'm fine, you don't have to,” Harry gives him an incredulous look. 

“You're cold, and I have a sweater and a jacket on,” he says slowly, “Take the jacket, Louis,” he tells, taking it fully off and holding it out, but Louis refuses, shaking his head quickly. 

“No, it's yours, I'm okay,”

“Louis, take the jacket,” 

“Harold, no,”

“Just take the jacket, you’re cold,” 

“I don't want to,”

“Louis, you're already wearing my shit, just take the damn jacket!” Harry exclaims loudly, other people in the aisle turning to stare at them. Louis froze in shock, slowly looking down at his large shirt, the bottom reaching his mid-thigh, the collar scooping low. 

“W-what?” Louis stutters out, making Harry sigh, running a hand through his hair again, jacket and basket discarded to the floor. 

“That's my shirt, Louis,” Harry tells him, nostalgia creeping in his voice, “It was you favorite of mine, and after the break-up, you kept it,” he explains softly, and Louis keeps looking down, suddenly remembering the way this shirt looks on someone bigger, more muscular. The memory floods back of the curve of Harry’s back when he wore it, the way it stretched across his broad shoulders. The memories make Louis’ eyes fill with tears, and Harry rushes forward to comfort him, wiping his sleeves under the smaller man’s eyes, pulling him close.

“Babe, no, please don't cry, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have mentioned it,” he murmurs, his own voice sounding choked up, making Louis pull him even closer, tears now soaking the bigger man's sweater. 

“I miss you,” he mumbles into Harry's chest, and feeling the man stiffen, he rushes on, “I miss you, I'm sorry I let it end, these past two months have been hell,” Harry slowly relaxes, his hands slowly tracing circles against Louis’ back, lulling him into safety.

“I miss you too, I'm sorry I left. I wish I hadn't. I don't even remember why it ended,” Harry confides, and Louis snorts, because for the life of him, he can't remember why either. His wet snort makes Harry laugh, which sets Louis off, until they're both giggling and hiccuping with sobs while holding each other in the produce aisle of the local Tesco.  

“Can we take back that ending?” Louis asks sniffling, as he pulls back to look into Harry's eyes. 

“I'd like to make a new one, if it's all the same to you,” Harry smiles, cheekiness slipping through, making Louis shake his head with a grin.  

“You sap,” he teases fondly. 

“You love me,” Harry counters, freezing at what he said. But Louis didn't hesitate to tug him down, and press their lips together, the two fitting as they always had, like two puzzle pieces. The gears inside of Louis melts in the warmth that is Harry, until all the pieces turn, work, and move again, his heart feeling larger than it has in the past two months. The two pull apart slowly, eyes still shining, faces glowing with happiness.

“I do,” Louis replies simply, because really, loving Harry is easy.   
Not heartbroken. No, not anymore.  

**Author's Note:**

> Hi :)  
> Thank you so much for reading! This is my first fic I've posted so I'm lowkey nervous aha, please leave feedback if you'd like :) Thank you to @nadiahilker for the prompt! I'm @tequilacollarbones on tumblr!
> 
> And finally, in the wise words of Louis Tomlinson: Please leave your honest opinion im only 16 years old :)


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